


In Sync

by Violetlyvanilla



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Commander Cas, Hurt/Comfort, Jaeger Pilot Dean, M/M, Pacific Rim - Freeform, Plot Twists, alternative universe, apocalypse au, creature cas, dystopian fic, sci fi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-13 03:55:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21237755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violetlyvanilla/pseuds/Violetlyvanilla
Summary: Once upon a time Dean and Sam were the world’s best jaeger pilots, protecting the world from the creatures known as Angels. Harbingers of the ocean’s rage, shaking the earth and destroying the coastal cities. Now its the end of days and Dean’s retired, having lost Sam and the will to fight. Along comes Castiel, mysterious and stubborn, bent on recalling Dean back to the pilot program. Dean’s sure though, that he’ll never be able to find another human on this whole crowded earth who he could sync with again, not even at the end of the world.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> With much thanks to the DCBB mods Muse and Diamond. And thanks to the wonderful Subtextiel (Feathergrave) <3
> 
> The lovely art by subtextiel is available for viewing here: https://feathergrave.tumblr.com/post/188725469960/in-sync-aaaaaaaaah-so-i-absolutely-adore-pacific

The new guy was going to get himself killed, thought Dean. The welder was trailing about a hundred feet below, wearing a tonne of safety gear that weighed their line down and paying way more attention to Dean than the emergency repair job they had been sent out to do. 

Working on The Wall was a shitty job, as far as post-apocalyptic jobs in America was concerned. At the top of the shitty chain of survival were the high ranking military people who worked with jaegers and tech deep in the heart of the great mountain ranges. Building giant mechanical robotic suits piloted by trained coordinated fighters sucked up all the glamour. The jaeger pilots had replaced NBA players and pop stars in an age of scarcity. When they triumphed against the angels they were revered and when they fell in battle the nation mourned. Dean wasn't a part of that life anymore. Under the rank of the military personnel, the last defender, there were the farms in the Mid West, protected at all costs so that the human population could be fed. Even farther below the agriculturalists were the mechanics like Dean. He was just a part of an anonymous repair crew now, working on the stubborn monument to star and spangled stupidity. The Freedom Wall, also known as the Patriot's Wall, was a great big piece of rusting metal that was added to with each inch of rising ocean level. Still, at least Dean had work, with sufficient rations and enough newsfeed to get by. Enough vodka to keep the dreams at bay, at least when he was awake. He never drank on the job though, he was melancholy but not suicidal. To repair the wall, they worked in crews of two, seeing as collaboration and partnership was all the rage in the age of the jaeger. The propaganda told the people, together we live and apart we are doomed to be angel food. So here Dean was, chained by the waist to the new guy, climbing up the wall - feeling the stranger's eyes on his ass. 

"I know the view's nice, but is it worth dying for?" 

Laboured breathing over the intercom was followed by a slightly befuddled and mechanical "I cannot see a view due to the wall." 

Dean was taking the line ten feet at a time, swallowing up the distance with efficient and coordinated movements. 

"Eyes on the hooks, not my magnificent ass comrade," Dean latched himself onto yet another anchoring point. 

"I am merely trying to copy your method of scaling the wall, I assure you at this distance I can barely see if you are wearing pants." 

"Wanna see something even more awesome?" Dean reached for his utility belt, making as if to shed his pants. 

"That would be extremely inadvisable given the windchill ..." 

Dean laughed and grabbed for his welding tool, torch flicked on with a hiss. There was no foothold in the spot where metal fatigue was evident, so Dean had to hold his entire weight with his left arm, shield the flame from the wind gusts with his body and conduct the repairs with his right hand. It took a few seconds to smelt on the scrap metal. He was sure it looked impressive, him just hanging there with the strength of his upper body alone. It was a risky, showing off kind of move, if his grip slipped the other guys was chained to a holding point and provided Dean's hip harness held, there would still be someone there to consume his alc-ration tonight. Within a moment he was done, scrambling up to grip a hook. His voice was smug as he relayed instructions to the other man. 

"You inspect and do a second layer if necessary. Working with junk metal here so you gotta pick your patch pieces right. Good combo, strong alloy, bad reaction, corrodes in a couple of days in the saline humidity. Then we'll be back up section ... uh 1406 ... again." 

There was no reply but when Dean looked down, the guy gave him a thumbup. So they kept climbing and checked for repair jobs along the way. 

Dean worked out a few things in the couple of hours it took them to reach the apex, repairing whatever they came across. They got talking, as much talking as possible over the static filled radio. He learnt things such as the name 'Castiel' belonged to his new repair buddy and it a bit of a mouthful, though the guy didn't object to Dean shortening it to 'Cas'. Cas didn't talk much, except when Dean provoked him. Angry flirtation was the best way to get Cas' feathers ruffled and Dean kind of enjoyed the officiously curt replies Cas gave. Much as Dean had objected to the whole idea of going up the wall in tandem, with a new man fresh on the wall that day, just so he could be trained, Cas wasn't such bad company. The weight of him on the other end of the wire anchored Dean rather than dragged down on him. 

"You sure you never climbed before?" The way the guy could keep up was impressive, he had stamina enough to outlast Dean's strength. 

"I have had some experience working with heights, but I have never mounted the Patriot's Wall." 

"Welcome to, uh, the first mounting then." Dean smirked over the radio. "Glad I was here for you."

When they got to the top of the wall, Dean watched Cas' body language as his took in the vista. Cas' reaction was not what Dean expected. He'd have expected a new worker to freeze the first time they saw what was on the other side, he'd even heard of some people who crouched and freaked out and refused to go up again. Cas just stood there, turning his face up towards the sky, his welding mask glinting in the sun as he looked as far as he could toward the horizon. It was a good thing they were still firmly tied together by the line, because the way the wind pushed into Cas' wiry frame, the way it picked up the few loose corners of his protective clothes, it looked like it might fling Cas right up into the atmosphere. 

Dean liked it up here too, the sea on the one side and the pit of the city on the other. Three hundred feet drop to the ground, thirty feet to the big drink. Not exactly the sort of beach you'd see on old time postcards of the westcoastline. 

Dean sat down on the ledge, with his back to the expanse. Cas followed slowly, transfixed by the ocean, to sit astride the wall with a leg on each side. He was still staring into the cloudy distance when Dean took off his safety goggles and pulled out some rations. It wasn't exactly hospitable up on top of the wall, but there was some shelter behind an armoured discharge point. If the two of them squeezed up tight there was enough respite from the wind to hear each other. Though Cas still kept his welding mask on and used his communication unit.

"I got chicken flavour," Dean looked down at his protein bar in some disappointment. "2020, when the whole world runs out of food except for chicken." 

"They are a commendably resilient species." 

"You remember chocolate bars? Not the synthetic stuff. Like real cocoa, my brother and my mom ..." Dean stopped, in shock. He doesn't remember the last time he spoke about his family, to anyone. Well, he did remember, it was long before taking up the post at the wall. The memory was full of the sound of ceremonial canons and Dean not even able to speak and his mother taking over calmly and Bobby stern faced and kind eyed. Dean finished weakly "... they liked chocolate." 

Cas reached into his coat, unzipping the leather collar and rummaged around in an inner pocket. Dean caught a flash of bright parrot red and indigo material. It looked like a jaeger pilot suit, but that must be a mistake, or maybe it was a broken one, patched up and repurposed. No one could afford jaeger pilot suits who weren't actively apart of the jaeger program. Maybe he had retired due to injury, though it was rare to go down in a battle against an angel and live to tell the tale. And Dean definitely didn't remember anyone called Castiel in his own time in the Angel Battalion. Maybe he wasn't based in the US. 

Somewhat to Dean's disappointment, when Cas pulled open his protective shell, there was definitely no skin being shown, Cas seemed to have dressed sensibly in layers. Sort of made Dean wonder what was under the woollens, beneath the custom skin of the possibly-jaeger-suit, what Cas' underwear looked like, maybe there was cotton or bamboo blend. Something expensive, old and natural. Silk even. Dean looked away, it'd been too long since he'd taken interest in another human. Maybe it was time to get merry drunk and sleep with someone on the repair crew. He had been at this wall three months, six at the last one up north. Nine months since his retirement, not quite a year. Had it been that long since he'd had the urge to fuck, or be fucked? Dean blinked, it was the first time he had even thought about since his mind got torn to shreds. It was kind of a nice distraction. Though it was probably still a bad idea to hit up the new guy, seeing as they were gonna be working together. 

"Here." Cas said offering something to Dean. 

Dean schooled his face into exaggerated concentration to focus on Cas' opened palm. Gotta stop making Cas uncomfortable, he reminded himself. The guy was obviously shy, he still had his helmet and eye shields on. Maybe he had some sort of facial injury that he considered unsightly. A lot of people had a lot of scars nowadays, Dean had plenty of his own. 

What Cas produced was unexpected. He offered it to Dean, showing him is hand wherein wrapped in some waterproof paper was a candy. A tiny rounded kernel with disintegrating foil around it. Dean pushed his face into Cas' palm. He breathed in deeply, there was the scent of work gloves, a hint of perspiration, the heat of labour and the heady buttery sensory overload of sugar and cocoa. 

Cas' shoulders hunched slightly in embarrassment as he watched Dean lick and savour. Dean didn't get why, he did use his fingers and hadn't eaten straight out of Cas' hand or anything too familiar like that. Sure he probably made some pretty obscene noises but chocolate was a truly rare find. 

"I don't know where you got that, or how you ended up on the wall dressed like a fancy pilot, or why you keep hiding your face, but just thanks." 

"A kiss." 

"Wow. That's forward, but," Dean bit his lip in surprise then shrugged. "Um, ok." 

"That's the name this product was marketed under. They were called Hershey's kisses." Cas said, a prolonged explanation tumbling out of his mouth behind the mask. 

"Right. You're telling me about the history of candy, not asking for a kiss." Dean clarified unnecessarily. 

Cas went silent. 

"I mean, I wouldn't have just kissed a guy for candy. Like, that would be, I'm not that kind of guy, I mean well not sober anyway and you, you don't need me to keep talking do you, even though I'm gonna." 

He was sure Cas was tilting his head and looking at him weird, there was definitely a slight lean to his helmet. 

Dean shoved his whole protein bar in his mouth and chewed violently. 

Cas pulled open the wrapper on his ration and tentatively poked it through his mouth grate. 

"How bad is it? Your face?" Dean asked, because Cas had some sort of magical power to keep him blathering. "You know I don't scare easy so you may as well be comfortable when you eat." 

"What?" Cas asked. 

"War wound, battle scar. Looking at your jacket I'd say you were in active combat, but not Angel Battle Corps. Not USAB Corps anyway. Pretty sure I'd know you if you were a pilot. So you got discharged, I mean your physical fitness is still impressive so it's gotta be your head. Burns, skull injury, mental impairment?"

"You're ex-USAB Corps and your body is in peak physical condition, too." Castiel said slowly. "So is there something wrong with your head?"

Dean sucked in some air, there was plenty of it up here, but still the oxygen felt a little low around him. Cas seemed to know who he was. Fuck. 

"Don't try to get into my head, Cas." 

Dean scrunched up his wrappers, the plastic one and the flakes of foil from the chocolate kiss, shoving them into his pocket. The magnetised boots helped him walk along the narrow ledge, though it certainly wasn't graceful what with the strengthening wind and bergeoning rain. 

They walked a hundred meters before the locator beeped to tell them there were repairs required on the section of wall below. Dean cursed when the readings showed the weak point was on the other side. 

"Last chance to show me what you look like Cas, before I go over," Dean started the complicated process of the life tether. 

"It is a survivable distance to the surface, on that side." Cas was talking about the sea, the water level was actually not very low for the wall, a storm and there'd be overspill. That's continuous building was necessary, gotta outpace the melting polar caps. "If you are doubtful of your safety, I should do it."

Dean was surprised by the offer. Most new hands to the wall were terrified of going over to the ocean side. Cas was confident, maybe cocky even. 

"You can swim?" So Cas really was a pilot, there were too few water training facilities left for recreational use. 

"Like a fish, so I'm told," Cas replied but Dean waved off his offer. Ex-pilot or not, it would be risky to send someone over the edge on their first day. Cas looked like he could handle himself out there but Dean didn't like the darkening skies and increasingly heavy rain. 

"You know how this works? I secure myself to you, you are the anchor point up top, the line from the ground runs through both of us. If I get stuck or I lose my footing you pull me up. That's why its called a 'life tether', my life in your hands buddy." 

"I understand," came the solemn reply. 

Cas locked his boots into the grooves on the ledge and checked his own line attachment, while Dean finished off the tether. Dean hadn't done this before since he was usually alone on the wall repairs, having requested to stay away from partnership work till now. So he was slower with the clasps and knots. Cas went stiff when Dean pulled him closer by the latches on his hips. Dean looked up at the impassive mask, but he was sure he saw Castiel's chest heave like he was sucking a breath. Dean winked at him and wove the line through both their hip harnesses. The buttons and zips on their suits clattered and clanged in such close proximity, Dean pressed in hard eliciting a soft exhale from Cas. 

"It's gotta be tight," Dean murmured. "Magnetising on three ..."

The click of their body magnets made Cas shudder. Dean grinned and licked his bottom lip. They were glued together from hip to neck by the magnets sewn into their shells. 

"All in working order, if I slip into the water and can't come back up, you drop yourself in and fish me out with the magnets," Dean lifted an eyebrow. "Should work in theory but lets not try it out."

Castiel nodded, their helmets clanking together. Dean pulled his goggles down over his eyes. 

"I feel like you owe me a drink when we get down to the commissary," Dean grinned as Cas gave a non-committal grunt, he released the magnets and they came apart again, though Cas was still standing quite close. 

Dean opened his arms and fell backwards down the wall. The wires attached to the magnets on their suits slowed down Dean's descent, he could see Cas standing there, bracing his arms on the ledge and looking down at him with that stupid blank masked head of his. 

Dean dangled for a minute like a puppet on a string. "I'm gonna start swinging."

Cas didn't move at all as Dean positioned himself to face the wall. It was a relief when he found a hold to grapple onto. His abdomen and thighs protested as he dragged himself upwards, twisting so he could eventually stand on the foothold. The job didn't take long and Dean was just about to shorten the tether and get himself wrenched back up when the first wave hit. It was so high the sea spray stung Dean's nose. These weren't waves, they were king tides. Just the sort of thing Cas was supposed to be on the lookout for, but he hadn't said anything. Dean looked up and saw Cas' outline against the darkening sky. Cas wasn't lifting a finger even though Dean was dangling like a fish on a hook and screaming at him through the comm. Cas was just looking ahead. 

The next wave hit, hard, smashing Dean into the wall and carved him out again as it retreated. Dean felt the tether lengthening automatically for a few seconds and braced for the jolt of it running out. Except it didn't. Cas wasn't on top of the wall anymore, he was getting bigger and closer. Dean noticed, randomly, that Cas had tossed off his helmet and the second last thought he had was that Cas' eyes couldn't possibly be that shade of marine blue. His last thought was that Cas was a crazy fucker and completely messed up in the head. He was definitely discharged for being a psycho because his face was perfection as he fell crashing down upon Dean. 

There weren't any scars, thought Dean as Cas' weight pushed him into the depths of the ocean. Cas was utterly, other worldly, beautiful. 

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

"I hate him," Dean said to Charlie the commissary officer, currently assuming the role of bartender and whom Dean was pretty much 99.9% sure was actually an incognito recruiter. Charlie was complicated but she was his friend. 

She was also patient, tough as nails and kind to Dean. Also she allowed him to run a tab. There was about a month or so, when Dean first got posted to this wall that he can't quite remember. He'd spent every waking moment in the bar trying to forget. Charlie has never told him what his bar tab balance amounted to. 

"That guy over there, that's Cas?" Charlie was staring wide eyed. "He's cute! You didn't say he was cute! And he's a total badass, where'd he learn to swim like that?" 

"The military of course," Dean ate a peanut. "Ex-pilot, I'm sure." 

"I don't know of any pilots like him, I know all the pilots, in the whole world. My handler used to make me recite the profiles..." 

Dean lifted an eyebrow at Charlie. 

"Shoot," Charlie sighed. 

Dean wasn't very surprised by Charlie's slip up. He had suspected she was someone sent by the USAB Corps to track him down. Probably his mother had something to do with it, or maybe Bobby. He clued in when she moved from the northern wall to this one at the same time as him. She was following him around, probably trying to get him to go back to jaeger piloting. What a stupid hope, Dean had only ever synced with one person on the planet and Sam was dead.

Still it was nice to know they cared enough to send someone to keep an eye on him. 

"It's okay, you be the simple cook, I be the repair crew." 

Charlie placed a whole bowl of pretzels in front of Dean with a red face. "On the house, Dean." 

"Cool." Charlie bit his lips. "Look, if its any consolation, I picked this job. I studied all the best fighters and I thought you being on the wall was a real waste. I wasn't the only one. Gimme three months, I told them, I'll come back with Dean Winchester as my copilot. It's been six months." 

Dean chewed on a pretzel, biting it into a heart shape. "I ain't easy sweetheart." 

"I could kick your ass from here to Alaska," Charlie hissed. "Just call me sweetheart again. And I just might also ask you to settle your tab." 

Dean swallowed. "Alright, take it easy. So if you're from home base, then who is Cas?" 

"Um, yeah, so like if I were someone who had access to say the entire database of current pilots and I can tell you right now that he's not one, then who do you think he is?" 

"I dunno, I don't care." 

"Russians," Charlie whispered dramatically. "I bet he's with them, look at his eyes, they are so stare-y. Definitely giving off a Krycek-ish vibe, like fixated on you much?" 

Dean's second month at the wall base was spent watching 90s television shows in between shifts on Charlie's living room floor. That was after Charlie just showed up at his door one evening with a bucket of popcorn and a rambling apology-come-disclaimer that she was not trying to seduce him. 

Dean dug his way through the bowl of pretzels, it was a mixed lot, all fancy with star shapes and sticks. Dean played with it till he found one encrusted in rock salt chunks. It was crunchy. 

"I'm an interesting guy, of course sexy eyes wants to stare fuck me," Dean said without a hint of modesty. "But I can tell you now, he's not gonna be the recruiter who gets me. No way. He made me backstroke." 

Charlie placed her chin in her palm and looked starry eyed from Cas to Dean. The news of what had happened up on the wall was already circulating through the gossip channels. When Dean had been taken out by the tides, Cas hadn't tried to fish him out with the magnets. He had dived straight off the wall, clicked on the body magnates then swam in the relentless tide till the helicopters could be deployed to pull them both out. It had taken sometime for the conditions to calm enough to risk the helicopters. They ended up taking turns treading water, there had been a lot of swearing on Dean's part and a lot of determined staring from Cas. He didn't say much, just wore a 'can you last as long as I can' expression on his face, arched his brows and kicked his legs. He had thought maybe the guy was gonna be mute without his mask, no such luck as things turned out. Dean remembered his arms were still sore from grabbing on to Cas' torso so hard for so long. 

"He swam for hours in king tides towing a grown ass man, you guys were taken so far out, it was like a three kilometre swim." Charlie said. "That's just dreamy. Can you imagine that kind of power and endurance amplified in a jaeger suit?"

Dean shook his head. That man didn't belong in a jaeger, he was too daring. Sure battling angels was terrifying but a man without a scrap of fear was scarier still. Dean was sure Cas was cracked in the head. 

"Guy's a nutcase. Told me to look up at the thunderclouds, talked about how he liked to watch the lightning, asked if I was enjoying our moment together watching the storm."

"The stamina!" Charlie gushed. "And really romantic." 

"There is nothing romantic about hypothermia!" Dean said, definitely too loudly. 

Cas stood up from his corner of the makeshift bar in the mess tent. It was really just a couple of tables and beanbags. One minute, Dean was wondering how someone so stiff could get up from a beanbag so gracefully, the next Cas had mechanically marched himself to Dean's side. 

"Hello Dean." 

Dean sipped his drink blank faced. Ignoring him might make him buy a clue. 

"Hiya Cas," Charlie was all friendly smiles and flicking hair, Dean glared at her traitorous grin. 

"Actually, my name is Castiel," said Castiel. 

"Sittdown Cas," Dean rolled his eyes. "Actually may name is Castiel - yeesh." 

Castiel blinked and cleared this throat. It didn't help, his voice was still deep and husky. Dean had thought the hoarseness was from the whipping winds, but it seems the guy just sounded like he'd swallowed a whole bag of dicks or something. The voice equivalent of spicy bourbon burning its way down Dean's throat. Dean's mouth watered. 

"Hello Dean!" Castiel said a little louder. 

Dean choked on his drink. Charlie threw a napkin at him then went back to very unsubtly swooning at Castiel. 

"Dean, it's rude not to greet such a ... handsome ... heroic ... helpful platonic colleague." 

"Hey Cas." Dean grunted. "My neck still feels clawed, thanks." 

Dean waited for Castiel to say something. Castiel looked at Dean, he was standing real close, just staring at Dean's face like he was trying to read his aura or something. 

"You seem displeased, is it me?" 

"Is it you, Cas?" Dean huffed. "What you can't see with those pretty blues how I feel about you?" 

"I can see but I'm not sure why," Cas scowled and then shrugged. "To be honest, I sense slight animosity." 

Charlie stifled her giggle behind her hands. "Sorry, just wiping glasses, not listening and laughing." 

"I am unclear if it is anger or ... arousal," Castiel sounded quietly confused. "Social queues are not my strong suit." 

"Okay, buddy, lemme spell it out for you," Dean stubbed his index finger into Castiel's chest. "You were supposed to anchor me. You were my life tether. Instead you jumped on top of me as a dead weight. Sunk me into infested waters and then dragged me like live angel bait for three kilometers! Plus you sang, Cas, you sang lullabies while we waited for the chopper!" 

"You seemed stressed," Cas said slowly. "I don't want you to be stressed. In fact you seem distressed once more." 

"Yeah, it's you Cas, you stress me out, you are the most stressful person I've ever met." 

"I'm not sure if that is intended as a compliment." 

Dean dropped his folded arms in disbelief. 

"Just, Cas, let's not waste any more time," Dean said. "Just come ..."

"Yes!" Charlie whispered. "Go with Dean." 

"No!" Dean hissed back at Charlie. "Not what I meant. No I'm not taking him home, he's not a stray cupid." 

One of the weirdest things about angels was the cupids. Angels were discovered in 2020, well it wasn't so hard to 'discover' something when giant creatures emerged from the oceans attacking coastal cities and godzilla-ed their way through capitals. No one knew where they came from, theories abounded. Some people thought they were prehistoric creatures, mammoth sea life, like the kraken and leviathan of mythology. Others figured them to be space aliens. They could control the weather somehow, earthquakes and tsunamis accompanied their attacks. They were rumoured to eat humans. If you sliced off a piece of an angel in battle, it usually rotted. Sometimes though the protein strands did weird things, like take on the shape of a living creature. That's how angels reproduced, it was thought. So they were classed by size. An archangel is top of the food chain. Then there were Seraphims who were warrior class. Principalities who were stronger but seemed less sensate. Cherubs who were smaller. Messengers who didn't do nearly as much damage but sometimes foreshadowed the arising of something bigger and badder. 

A cupid is a small malformation of angel flesh, they looked like sleek cats with seal fur skin and wings. The cupids were sought after as pets but the military tagged and caged them for fear they might over time mature and turn into full sized angels. Dean saw a cupid once, in the Shurley Research Labs. That one had been luminescent white with a pearlescent rainbow sheen. The wings had been black, glossed over blue and green like peacock feathers. He had thought it was pretty adorable but they always looked more cute when they were asleep than they did when they were feeding, he was told. 

Turning to Cas, Dean implored. "Just come clean. Tell me who you are and what you want and I'll tell you no and you'll go away. You're not the first recruiter to come here, nor will you be the last." 

Dean cast a meaningful glance at Charlie, Charlie pulled a face. 

"I get about three calls a year from whoever is the president at the time. I've been offered money, fame, very nice vintage cars. I've been coerced, guilt tripped, ordered but I haven't said yes. I'm never going back to the Corps. I'm never piloting again. I can't Cas. So don't waste your time on me, there are pilots out there, not washed up, not broken. Not like me." 

Castiel looked at Dean, his face soft. 

"I'll see you tomorrow." Castiel gave Dean a small nod and left. 

* * * 

Castiel stayed. He never tried to recruit Dean, he just stayed. For days, then weeks. Charlie researched frantically but found no trace of Castiel's origins. Their section of the wall endured two cherub class attacks, both of which the discharge canons only just managed to repel. The climatic conditions worsened as they moved into deep winter. Half the planet was frozen and the other half frying. The global crop failures increased and there were more forced migrations as homes went underwater. The wall was going to be raised another 10 meters which Dean honestly didn't know if it would be enough, but the additional repair work was sure going to filled up his calendar. 

He got a few emails from Bobby with attachments of his pet project apocalyptic bunkers and less than subtle hints that Dean ought to bug out to the middle of nowhere and get constructing. Funny thing was Bobby had spent his whole life preparing for a scenario like this, but now that the end of the world as they knew it was neigh, he was doing the opposite of turning tail and running. Last time Charlie looked it up, Bobby had been promoted to some scarily high ranking in the Corps, because while Bobby would always be the fringe dweller in a nice world, at the end of the world he was reliable. On Christmas eve, Dean's mother called him on the comm. She looked fighting fit but exhausted. They didn't say much, just drank quietly together till Mary said gently "I love you Dean" and Dean ended their ten minute allowance with a croaky "Yeah, me too. Proud of you mom." 

Neither of them mentioned Sam. 

* * * 

It got to the point where Dean seriously considered refusing to go on shifts with Castiel. Every time they went up some calamity would occur. There'd been a broken line and Dean had free fallen 10 meters before Castiel caught him. Then there was the king tide that swept Castiel off the wall and Dean rappelled down to fish him out. There was a collapse along one section and Dean had to tightrope walk a structural beam and life tether Castiel to safety. On the last occasion they worked together they startled an injured cherub with its wing caught in a discharger and Dean would have had his hand clawed off if not for Castiel's swift intervention with an angel blade. 

The appearance of the blade had made Dean seriously worry about who Castiel really was. The only weapon that worked to severe angels down to the bones was another bit of angel of course. Angel spine blades were made from the carcass of angels slain by jaeger pilots. The blade was fashioned out of the spinal pieces of archangels. There were claw daggers and scale knives. Swords made from exoskeletal spines. Dean hadn't seen many pilots use swords for de-suited combat, he considered them impractical to carry. Castiel's blade was silver and looked to be made from a long elegantly elongated incisor tooth, Dean had no idea where on his person Castiel stowed the weapon, but he sure was grateful when Castiel used it to fend off the cherub. 

So it went, one mishap after another. Dean was pretty sure by the end of the month that Castiel had been running some sort of perverse experiment on him. If he was a more cynical man, and Dean was as cynical as a person can get, he thought Castiel was assessing him for worthiness. Like an animal testing the strength of a potential mate so as to obtain the best genetic materials. Castiel looked at him, sitting on the other end of the bar, or on the other end of the mess tent, or on the other end of the wall, like Dean had to prove himself. It was a strange and irritating experience, to be so weightily gazed on. 

"You are bad luck!" Dean admonished when they hit the showers after the incident with a swarm of cupids. The two of them had gone up the wall for a routine strength check and sure enough a storm cloud came out of nowhere, they'd been drawn by their mere presence, and pretty much what looked like My Little Ponies, but with bigger teeth, swopped them. These cupids might have looked like flying unicorns but their poop sure wasn't sparkly glitter rainbows. They excreted acid, it was disgusting. 

They both needed to shower badly and the change rooms were empty since they came down the wall mid-shift. Dean stripped angrily, looking at the holes in his own shell with dismay. He was gonna have to patch those up and that would take hours since he wasn't so good with a needle and insulating materials were scarce. 

"I am appreciative of your assistance," Castiel shrugged out of his own acid eaten shell-suit, but Dean could see that the excretions had no even stained the nice, almost brand new looking jaeger suit beneath. "Once again." 

"How did you get yourself trapped in the refuse alcove?" Dean asked, ripping off his shirt and stepping out of his pants. "And why on earth were your rations loose, you were practically baiting them."

Castiel pulled off his headgear, there was a distinct smell. Like sulfur and vinegar. 

"Shit, your hair," Dean grabbed a hold of Castiel's shoulder. "Hold still, do you want it to get in your eyes?" 

"They defecated acid into my hair?" That was the first time Dean had heard Castiel sound perturbed. 

"Just a little, I can cut it off with my pocket knife." Dean combed his fingers through Castiel's hairline, getting up close to peer at his scalp, checking that none had seeped down to damage the skin. "Don't worry, you'll still have that handsome bird's nest look." 

"Dean ..." Castiel twitched as Dean combed his fingers through his hair. 

"Shush, put your head down so I can check the other side." Castiel complied his eyes squeezing shut then opening wide. 

Castiel had the most unearthly blue eyes Dean had ever seen, framed by long girly lashes that were dark and wispy and very pretty. 

"Dean." Castiel repeated, Dean ignored him, making quick work of taking off a few pieces of hair. 

"Mmhmm, looks all clear. Better shampoo it though, those cupid things are filthy," Dean joked. "Don't want you to get alien lice or something like that." 

"Dean!" Castiel's voice was a troubled moan.

"What?" Dean felt a twitch at his crotch at the sound of Castiel's moan, he was kind of used to that now. 

"You're naked." 

Dean jumped back from Castiel with a start. He looked down and to his horror realised he had stripped clean of his clothes just before noticing the problem with Castiel's hair. He had forced Castiel's head down to almost crotch level to cut out the tainted hair. Castiel would have seen Dean's dick twitch before his nose. Dean stood flustered, naked, his eyes wide. 

"Are you going to initiate sexual intercourse?" Castiel asked soleomnely, those damned lovely lashes flickering up and down as he looked at Dean. 

"Fuck," Dean said intelligently and before Castiel could ask if that was a verb or a profanity, Dean bounded into the showers with his cheeks burning. 

* * * 

Dean supposed the questionable likelihood of humanity seeing too many more New Years made people party harder. Charlie had danced with every single person on base, Castiel three times. They came rushing into the solitary corner Dean lurked in, as if the world ending was not something that got them particularly down. 

Dean noticed Charlie was wearing vintage novelty plastic glasses in the shape of '2018'. With so much of the interior shut off now that everyone was needed to work on defence and agriculture, most places were ghost towns. The bigger stores were sealed off by the military, to be used as supply bases. Human kind weren't going to see the sort of manufacturing and mass production levels of the early 21st century again anytime soon. Someone from the wall must have supplied up at one of the sealed off box stores recently. Dean hoped it was a Trader Joe's because he loved the gourmet offerings no matter how expired the packets tried to say they were. 

Castiel had been given a small golden party hat, which he wore crookedly on his head, fiddling with the string that went behind his ears every few minutes. 

"Let's drink to the Eastern Sea Border reopening," Charlie grinned widely. "They are even talking domestic flights down the track." 

"That would be a hasty move," Castiel set out three cups. "The current frequency, or lack thereof, of attacks above the cherub class worries me." 

"You know, some people think the last Archangel Uriel was it, the big bad and since it was taken out by Dean and Sam..." 

Charlie cut herself off abruptly. "I mean, the Singer-Winchester dream team has got it covered. Sure Mary's burning through co-pilots like they are going out of fashion, there's still plenty of volunteers willing to make the sacrifice to win the war." 

Castiel watched Dean's intentionally blank face. 

"Dean, I don't want to offend you but I can't wait around here for you forever." 

Dean looked up from the empty paper cups. To his surprise it was Charlie who had said those words. 

"I know I have maintained perfect cover," Charlie smirked. "But you know as well as I do that they need you out there. You and your mom could be in harmony for all we know. Imagine the power if you guys joined forces." 

Dean shook his head. "Charlie, let's not." 

"Okay, don't then, sync with me. I have a ride parked in the base right this second. We can jump in and take her for a flight." 

"You pilot?" Dean's eyes snapped to Charlie. "Where's your partner?" 

"Lost her in combat, two years ago, been trying to find someone to sync with ever since. Got retrained as a recruiter. I bagged a few star recruits, till I got cocky and took you on as an assignment, 12 months of sitting pretty on the wall and you are completely unmoved. It's my last night here, I have to report to active duty tomorrow." 

"You don't want in my head, Charlie." Dean could see Castiel watching the conversation, the golden hat askew, his eyes stormy and unreadable. 

"You don't deserve to be alone," Charlie said stubbornly. 

"He's not alone," Castiel muttered. "I will keep an eye on him after your deployment." 

Charlie looked dejected, she grabbed Dean by the hand and squeezed it. "I don't want to leave you."

Dean patted her hand awkwardly. "Hey, you heard Cas, he'll spook around here. Make sure I am plagued by bad luck. You know, generally stressing me out." 

Castiel produced a bottle of vodka to everyone's astonishment. It came in a water flask and was clearly home brewed. He filled up each cup with a small shot. 

"To victory," he gestured to Charlie. 

They drank burning liquor, which was more smooth and fragrant than any vintage commercial brew Dean had drank in the past. 

"I am afraid your performance will be impeded," Castiel said to Dean when he asked for a second round. 

"I'm rostered for a break tomorrow," Dean said. "Top me up." 

This time Dean raised his cup to Castiel. "To accidents." 

Cas laughed and all three of them drank. 

"Russian!" Charlie said pointing a somewhat unsteady finger at Castiel. "I checked every data base but you don't officially exist, anywhere. So I'm betting you're Ruski Corps, you know how cool your nuclear drives are? I mean we all know fallout from them could wipe out the earth but offensive wise you guys are hard to beat." 

"I am not affiliated with that government. Though I admit I have received some tuition from that part of the world. As I have from other allied nations," Castiel said formally. That was more than he had ever admitted to being a jaeger pilot.

Dean studied Castiel's face, his cheeks were slightly flushed, his eyes sparkling blue. Dean cursed under his breath, there was literally no other description for that colour and that brightness than beautiful. Somehow the idea of Castiel hanging around unnecessarily didn't seem so bad. He imagined walking the top of the wall with him, day in and out, patching up that ever growing wall till the actual end of the world. It must be the vodka, it was spiked or something, since when did Dean believe in ever after. 

"How long you got?" Dean heard himself asking Castiel. 

Castiel looked surprised by Dean's question. 

"When is it your turn to leave?" Dean saluted Castiel with his shot glass. "Everyone always leaves." 

"I am here of my own free will," Castiel said earnestly. "I am not beholden to a deadline though there is some urgency in my mission." 

"Yeah, so when you keep asking me to join, whoever it is you work for, and I tell you 'no' and you eventually give up no matter how stubborn you think you are, you'll go," Dean said, licking the side of his shot glass. "So when is that?" 

Dean was aware his sentences were getting longer and his head was getting lighter. 

"I will not leave you," Castiel said, topping up Dean's drink with a generous slosh from his flask. 

"Yeah, right," Dean took the shot. "I believe you buddy." 

Then everything went blurry and the last thing Dean remembered was falling into Castiel's arms and it was warm.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean woke up tied to a bed. He was thirsty and hot and groggy. The person he was handcuffed to was still out cold, in the dim light Dean could make out the now familiar angle of nose and tilt of eyelashes. 

"Cas," Dean wriggled closer. "Wake up."

Castiel gasped hoarsely and blinked at Dean. 

"I swear if you had anything to do with this, Cas," Dean said threateningly. 

Castiel darted his eyes around, calmly taking in the darkened surrounds, their bound limbs and the handcuffs. 

"I assure you, Dean, any arrangements I make with regard to restraining you would be more elegant than this," Castiel said. "I have been studying very tasteful pornography." 

Dean's eyes widened but he quickly looked away at the far off corner of the space. 

"You think that door is locked?" Dean indicated the entrance with his head. 

"Certainly," Castiel answered. "The restraints suggest they don't want us loose." 

"Why do you think they have us tied up?" Dean asked. "Stylish porno reasons notwithstanding." 

"It is certainly overkill," Castiel said. "You would not be able to get through a locked metal door sealed by deadbolts."

"Did you put something in the vodka?" Dean asked. "Cause we were drinking one minute and the next I passed out." 

Castiel shook his head. "A sharp and well aimed blow to the head is more my style. I am as much a prisoner as you. Though I do find being tied to a bed like this with you to be suggestive. I have been trying to free myself for sometime, I have not yet succeeded. Their tactic is oafish but their knot tying is good."

Dean pressed in tight to Castiel. "Come on Cas, if we undulate ourselves we could roll off the bed!"

"Somehow I never thought you would be someone to use the word 'undulate', it sounds fetching though." Castiel paused as if lost in thought for a moment, then he regrouped. "Getting off the bed would only result in us entangled on the floor, Dean. Not a position you would desire. Dean?" 

Dean shook his head slowly. Taking in a deep breath he leaned in and whispered into Castiel's ear his best guess at who had drugged them and tied them up. 

All at once they both started screaming "Charlie!" Though Dean used many more and more succinct expletives than Castiel. 

The room they were in suddenly lit up and the ground shook. Castiel sighed. "We are in Crookshanks." 

"What did she put in the vodka, you are not making sense." 

"He's making perfect sense, clever boy," Charlie's voice came through the overhead comm, she was panting a little. "Crookshanks is my ride Dean, did you really think I was going to go back to the Corps without a star recruit? Now I have two." 

"You do not have the clearance to deprive me of my liberty," Castiel said quietly. "And Dean is not without friends in the Corps." 

"He's too important to rot at the wall, we need him." 

"He is not ready." 

"Yes he is, you've been testing his physical condition for months. All those accidents that kept happening, you were trying to trigger a sync with him." 

"I would never attempt to sync with Dean," Castiel sounded wounded. "I would never be so selfish. There are better co-pilots out there than me, I'm not even on the list of potential matches." 

"Wait a minute," Charlie's comm cut out for a few minutes. "Why is the wall in lock-down?" 

"Okay Charlie, I don't care, just uncuff me from Cas, there is NO personal space down here." 

"The flight won't take long, couple of hours tops," Charlie muttered. "As soon as I clear this glitch." 

There was a long silence, then the muffled sound of the base alarm. 

"Okay Charlie, not funny anymore, the base knows I'm missing and they've latched your ride. Better come let us go before security press charges." 

"They are not looking for you, either of you. I had the computer think you were both going on a supply run. No one was going to find out you were gone till I land in Corps Central."

"Well, someone must have caught on to your ridiculous plan. I mean Charlie, if you think my mom or Bobby wants me kidnapped into military service, why wouldn't they have done it themselves? You can't force anyone to pilot, you know that! I don't care you've been my friend in some of the worst days of my life, I won't let you in my head!" 

"Yeah, I know that," Charlie sounded distracted, there were a lot more alarms now. "I was just going to leave honestly. Then I saw it, it's the most amazingly obvious thing. You and Cas, you'd easily sync up, you could harmonise even." 

"We're not even related, obviously," Dean said in frustration. "Can you just get down here and we can argue this out in person?" 

"Can't, I'm in the cockpit. And something is going on out there. The sea temperature is way too warm for this time of the year. It's triggered an automatic full scale lock down. Anyway, you don't have to be related to sync with someone, all it takes is brain chemistry. And you and Castiel have bucket loads of chemistry. Hey if you guys become a couple, I bet you'd harmonise even." 

Dean tried not to think about what Charlie was suggesting. He couldn't imagine showing Castiel his ripped up soul. A sync was the melding of two minds and it had felt intrusive even with his own brother Sam. Though they had both been trained to keep things separate in their heads. When Sam had died, they were completely synced, in mid-battle. They hadn't been anytime to untangle, Dean had gone out of his mind. 

Charlie was cursing, still trying to get out of the base. She had stowed her jaeger suit in some subbasement, probably where they kept the spare parts and potatoes or some such. Dean seized the base lock-down to bargain with her. 

"Come on Charlie, it's a full lock down, so no transportation, not even your ride, will be allowed in or out." Dean reminded her. "You're stuck Charlie." 

"Dean, shut up," Castiel said. When Dean kept talking Castiel smothered Dean's face with his neck and hissed. "Hush! Listen." 

All the alarms had been silenced. 

"I can't hear anything." Dean said, a little slow on the uptake. 

"Yes." Castiel looked troubled. 

Dean slowly lifted his head and met Castiel's eyes. "Shit." 

The constant battering of the tides on the wall had stopped. 

"It's a First Sphere Class, a Lord, no a Principality since it has six legs," Charlie's voice confirmed. "Double sworded." 

"The nearest deployable ride is midwest, one hour away," Castiel said. "We need to alert the base for an evacuation." 

"The wall ..." Dean began to say. 

"Is useless, a political strategy to keep people from panicking. You know that as well as I do," Castiel said. "It would buy the population half an hour at most, without a successful military defence." 

"Who said we don't have a ride, we're in a ride, right now," Charlie said then Dean and Cas went crashing down to the ground. "Sorry guys, try to find a corner and get comfortable, I don't have time to come and free you guys. I have a lot on my mind." 

"Charlie, don't, no one can pilot by themselves, you'll fry your brain." 

"Since your ride is a smaller faster model, you have a good chance of escape from the angel. You could complete your mission. Let the wall fall and survive." 

"No Castiel, I'm not running. And don't worry Dean, Crookshanks' AI has had a year's worth of modifications from yours truly and my IQ is off the charts." 

"Charlie!" Dean shouted, despair welling up in his chest like bitter sea water. 

Whilst Dean was shouting, Castiel hooked his legs around Dean's hips and rolled them under the utilitarian bed. "Hold on, Dean." 

Riding without being strapped into a pilot station was definitely not recommended. Dean could feel the jerkiness of the ride's movements as it engaged defence mode. 

"Is it a giant cat?" Dean asked quietly. 

"Crookshanks has a lynx like design and is one of the newest models," Castiel answered. "Charlie Bradbury is a fine pilot and she was not being facetious when she spoke of her superior brain function. She carried 75% of the battle load when she was partnered, with an AI onboard she may be able to ..." 

"Get killed real good by a sea monster?" Dean sighed. 

"I cannot pretend I am not concerned," Castiel replied. "I cannot conceive of a survival strategy for you that has a more than 50% chance of success." 

Dean looked at Castiel aghast. "You're calculating my chances of survival? What about you? What about Charlie?" 

"Here goes, guys!" Charlie's voice boomed. 

The lurch in his guts informed Dean that they were flying. 

"He's big," Charlie called out. "Two heads, four arms, two swords and full body armoured."

Dean felt Castiel's thighs grip him tight as Charlie sped up then suddenly they were falling. It was like being trapped in a big broken elevator dropping into the ocean. Dean could hear the splash of their entry into the water. 

"Are Lynxes good in water, Cas?" 

"Very." Castiel smiled. 

There were a few heavy metallic bangs then Dean and Cas blacked out. 

* * * 

Their cuff was broken. Castiel was gone. Dean was drowning. 

Someone had him by the shoulder, was pulling him up, dragging him through the crushing weight of the water and determinedly pushing him to the surface. 

Dean could see through the stinging fog of the sea water the vague shape of the thing saving him. Scaled and clawed feet, dark tendrils trailing down its head and back, a humanoid feline face turning around to gawk at him. Glowing blue eyes with icy fire in their depths. 

Dean's chest didn't hurt, he felt strangely calm. Why had Sam screamed so loud in his head when he had been ripped out of the pilot's chamber? This drowning felt almost peaceful. Maybe he'll see Sam again. Somewhere deep in the heart of the ocean where only dead pilots could go. 

Blistering pain seared his lungs. Dean opened his eyes and found himself afloat on the hull of a silver lynx head. Charlie was still encapsulated in the left eye socket life-pod. Her life sign indicator lit up green and purple, she was bleeding from her nose and ears but there was no visible trauma to her body otherwise. The readings showed she was alive and would live. That was all Dean could ascertain in that moment. He needed to get to Castiel. Charlie's jaeger suit was standing stock still in the water, the nose of its skull just above the tideline. Since Charlie had ejected, it was pilotless and lifeless. Dean clambered quickly up to the right eye, his muscles burning as he re-oxygenated.

The sight of Castiel, sitting in the half flooded, broken command centre inside the suit's forehead, looking up at Dean with a startled expression made Dean collapse with relief. With his back to the wreckage of Charlie's ride, Dean could see the wall with its gaping breech. The Principality Angel slithering over it, acid spewing from its two mouths melting away the iron barrier, it was using twin angel swords to puncture the firing wall canons with precision. There was no doubt angels were sentient and intelligent in Dean's mind, though they might look like mindless monsters from the deep. The worst thing about higher classes of angels was that it rarely attacked individually. They worked in squadrons, swimming in formation. This one was vanguard. 

"Cas, pilot with me," Dean said as he collapsed into the control chair beside Castiel. "That's what you were trying to do right, get her restarted on your own?" 

"I'm not connected," Castiel said, his face pale. "I was just sitting here thinking about it, but its too dangerous. I can't." 

He didn't wait around to see Castiel look more surprised than ever. Just sat back and closed his eyes, waiting for the machine to auto-detect him. When the connector entered his spine, Dean shuddered. He never thought he'd feel the sensation again as the drift took over the movement of his limbs, they felt heavy and as Dean moved his right hand a silver claw emerged from the foamy ocean. 

"Come on Cas, you can do it, spike in, now!" 

"I am not cleared for combat!" Castiel gasped but Dean could hear the soft puncture of Castiel's neck by the spine needle. "I am forbidden from it! I failed the psych eval, multiple times." 

"Cas, nothing in your head will be worse than what's in mine," Dean said firmly. "Trust me. And try not to look." 

Dean jolted when Castiel came online. There was blue, such a familiar shade, blossoming into darkness. Dean fell into the inky whirlpool, there were things in here feathers and blades and teeth. Then light, blinding light and Dean screamed in pain. 

The oceans parted and a wall built of junk rose from the depths, shading Dean from the light. The wall was made of broken pieces, jaeger parts, old cars, picket fences, bloodied concrete, shattered windows. There was a man standing at the top of the wall, looking down at Dean. Dean was holding in his hand a rusted shovel. The man peered at him, his face haloed by the golden light, then black wings rose from his back to shade Dean's eyes. They were life-tethered to each other and when Castiel took flight he looked like an angel. Not the ones they fought, but those in the illuminated texts that Sam used to study, beautiful. 

"Dean, I can't breathe." 

Dean's vision cleared, the visual image of the angel Castiel disappeared as the controls came back into focus. 

"It's the drift, it's just telling you what I remember from the last time I was in it, don't believe it, you're with me Cas, we're gonna fly." 

"I'm ripped to pieces," Castiel gasped. "My head, he's screaming, it hurts." 

"Let him go," Dean said, his voice only quivering a little. "He's screaming for you to let him go, so let go." 

"Sam!" Castiel called out. "Sam!" 

Dean closed his eyes and talked to Castiel in the drift. He remembered the park that his mom used to take him and Sam to. There was a playground there and he and Sam used to sit on the swings and compete on who could go higher. He found himself sitting on a park bench as an adult, watching himself and his brother as laughing kids. There was a guy on the park bench next to him, hunched over, his head bowed. 

"Look Cas, we were happy here, safe. When you get lost in my drift, hold onto this." 

Castiel looked over, his eyes brimming with tears, he smiled in relief. 

The hum of the sync cleared their visions. "You in control, Cas?" 

"I liked it when you talked to me in our heads," Castiel said. 

"All right, I won't use the comm then." Dean said to Castiel in the drift. 

They had synced pretty smoothly for two guy who had never been in a suit together before. Dean could see out of the jaeger now, could move the whole left hand side. Castiel was breathing slower and testing the reflexes on the right. He seemed to know what he was doing, could run the protocols through the machinery with a thought, probably had spent some time training in simulation pods. Dean wondered who Castiel really was, there weren't any pilots that he knew who could sync so easily and had the sort of security clearance to get many hours in a training pod. Castiel had said he had learnt stuff from the Russians, Dean had never heard of the Russians cooperating with the US outside of the core Corps. Who the fuck was this guy who was now in Dean's head? 

"Dean, stop thinking about me, we have to stop that angel," Castiel thought at him. "I see him."

Dean dragged his mind back to the task at hand. "There's a broken wing, on the back, do you see it? Charlie ripped it off." 

"Which gives us an opening." Castiel agreed. 

"Use the tail." Dean told Castiel. 

"Swim, fast, quiet." Castiel commanded the suit and the two of them moved their arms and legs in the command chair, the jaeger suit copied their movements. They couldn't submerse the head fully in the ocean, since one eye was shattered and they'd both drown in the control centre if they did. So they swam fast, hoping the angel was too busy trying to destroy the wall to notice them. 

"Jump." Dean shouted to Castiel in their heads. 

"Stab." Castiel pushed the right claw of the jaeger suit forward, clawing into the wall for purchase. 

The thoughts occurred as fast as the actions of their ride. The mechanical lynxu snuck up on the angel and using its angel blade tail speared the angel through its back via the wing stump, bypassing the creature's armoured exoskeleton. Two bladed claws crushed the twin throat of the angel simultaneously before it could let out its dying song to alert its allies. Dean and Castiel held on, fists clenched and watched through their broken pod windows as the other jaegers began to appear in the distant horizon. 

The spun and threw up acid all down the front of the jaeger, the fume came through the windows choking Dean. Castiel was coughing, they lost the sync and the suit went still. 

The green one was mom, thought Dean distantly as the angel roared.


	4. Chapter 4

"How demoted am I?" Charlie asked, chin in her hands, one arm strapped up for a broken bone. 

It was Dean's mother, Mary Winchester, in her jaeger Liberty who found them. They had distracted the angel enough for her to land a kill shot to its head. With her help Dean and Castiel had somehow managed to defeat the angel, a principality class threat, posthumously named Raphael. Dean wouldn't have believed it possible to even walk a jaeger suit in a straight line upon a first sync, but sync Castiel and him did, they had drifted with surprising smoothness and intuition. Dean shook his head, it was too troubling to think about how easy it was getting into each other's heads. Castiel's head had been a bizarre and strangely beautiful place, full of water wherein lurked monsters. Whereas Castiel had seen the mess that was Dean's psyche, all the grief and guilt and so much loneliness. 

Dean glared at Charlie but couldn't find it in himself to make things worse for her. 

"What's the damage on my jaeger?" She asked, ever persistent. 

Castiel looked towards the ceiling. Castiel hadn't said much to anybody since they were rescued from the carcass of Charlie's jaeger. 

"Guys, talk to me! I'm injured, poor me." 

"You drugged us Charlie," Dean crossed his arms. "And so help me if you try to tell us it was for our own good..." 

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Okay it was a low scumbag move and I really do owe you one for saving my suit..." 

"... I wouldn't call it saving," Dean said. "More like salvaging a wreck." 

Charlie's face fell. "I worked so hard on her." 

Dean felt a stab of sympathy. "Whatever, it's only hardware, its the software that's valuable and that's backed up in her core. No need to be too upset." 

"And your arm will heal," Castiel said more gently. "It will not impair your ability to pilot though there will be some limitations placed on you by command." 

"Whatever," Charlie looked to Dean with wide eyes. "You're here Dean, it was worth it." 

Dean sighed. After Mary fished him and Castiel and Charlie out of the ocean, they were all handed over to medical staff. Mary had used her jaeger to pick up Charlie's suit and flown it back to USAB Corps headquarters. Dean, Castiel and Charlie had been taken from the wall to the mountain ranges and here he was, back in the fold of the Angel Battalion. 

"You'll be sharing your tech space once the medic discharges you," Castiel informed Charlie. "As a sort of punishment." 

"No!" Charlie shouted. "They can take my stars, make me a floor mechanic, I can't share my work, it will be ruined!" 

"And Crookshanks will be last on the repair list, commander's orders." 

Charlie buried her head in a pillow for a moment. 

"Well that sucks," she said and clicked on her viewing monitor, turning the volume up to max. She selected a gold level battle simulation and began gaming. 

"Don't sulk," Dean said. "Look, I'll talk to my mom try and see if there's anything we can do to get the repairs expedited. I'll work on her myself if I gotta." 

Charlie nodded at Dean, her mouth pursed. 

"I will also lend what assistance I can," Castiel said. "I do have some sway here." 

Charlie blinked at him. "Okay," she said trustingly, shrugging her shoulders. "Thanks, for not bearing a grudge or anything." 

Dean smiled at her. "Get better Charlie and uh thanks, for kidnapping me here, I guess."

Charlie looked at him. "I owe you an apology Dean." 

"Nah," Dean gave her a nudge on her good arm with his hand. "I needed a kick up the ass and you handed it to me." 

Charlie looked at him like she wanted to apologise again but Dean wave her off and followed Castiel out. 

"She piloted a mid-sized jaeger by herself. That's incredible," Dean said to Castiel. "They won't really ground her if an attack happens?" 

"No, but she needs to learn to have more control of her gifts and to share with others." Castiel said, there was something in his tone of voice that made Dean wonder if he was talking about Dean too, or maybe even himself. 

"Yeah, sharing is cool," Dean said, palm on the back of his own neck. It was weird, well weirder with Castiel, like they'd been naked together or something. Though less fun, Dean imagined. 

They were standing in the corridor of the medical sector in Central Corps. 

"That is so," Castiel agreed, scrutinising his own feet. 

"I didn't mind sharing that jaeger with you," Dean blurted. "Damnit Cas, don't make me spell it out." 

Castiel blinked rapidly. "You enjoyed syncing with me? Did we see the same visions? In particular the one with the teeth." 

Dean shrugged. "You are a complicated guy. I'm okay with that. You saw what happened to Sam and how I ... killed him. You didn't judge." 

"Dean, I saw you breaking your heart over your brother's death," Castiel said, staring into Dean's eyes. "I felt your pain and your loss. I drowned in your guilt. It's not ..." 

"...my fault," Dean nodded. "I know that, mom said so too, Bobby as well. The whole world told me that but that's not how it feels." 

"You feel ripped apart." 

"Not when I ride with you," Dean said, his eyes glinting. "Even before the sync, when we were walking the wall together, I didn't feel alone. And now, my thoughts are crowded with you." 

Castiel's eyebrows lifted. "You realise I'm not in the deployment pool. I will not be presenting myself as a candidate for your choosing." 

Dean frowned. "I'm not choosing, I have chosen, it's you." 

"It's can't be me, I'll be your handler, your strategist, I would even gladly be your mechanic but I won't sync with you again."

They spent the rest of the walk to the command centre in awkward silence. Dean was bewildered by Castiel's outburst. All that effort to shadow him on the wall, all those recruiters who Dean turned down, now he was willing to get back in a jaeger and Castiel won't even pilot with him. 

The room they walked into was flooded with light. The base was carved into the side of a mountain, facing the sea. The entire outer wall was see through but Dean could see the tell tale signs of armoured plates around the perimeter. They were probably camouflaged too, given the dense forest cover outside. Bobby stood by the window, surrounded by pilots. He grunted for everyone to shut up and walked up catching Dean in a rough hug. 

"Commander," Bobby turned to say and to Dean's shock it was Castiel he was looking at. "Mary Winchester is with her co-pilot. She's fine but he's gonna be on medical retirement for six weeks at least." 

"Bobby, you are the commander," Dean said. "And mom too." 

Bobby sighed impatiently. "He hasn't filled you in, has he? Castiel, can you take Dean on orientation and tell him who the hell you are?"

Castiel nodded and led Dean down a corridor. "You have not been to this base before?" 

Dean was staring at Castiel with shock in his eyes. "Uh, no, I sought discharge before the base moved here, just after... after Michael." 

It hurt to even speak the name of the archangel whose death had cost him his brother. 

"I am appointed a commander here by the United Nations," Castiel sighed. "So technically I outrank your mother and Bobby because they are the representatives for the United States which is a member state to the UN. I came by appointment via the scientific research branch. My role here is to analyse battle statistics and aid in angel research. I work with Chuck Shurley." 

Dean sucked in a sharp breath. "What? He's here?" 

Chuck Shurley was the world's foremost authority on angels. He had studied them right from the start but when he published some controversial papers he was derided by other academics. Dean had thought he had gone into hiding, but it seems he was still working on angels. 

"Didn't he uh get in trouble for ... for saying angels were like us?" Dean asked. 

"They are," Castiel said. "But I won't spend too much time on convincing you of it."

"They are monsters," Dean said. "That'd be like saying an earthquake has feelings." 

Castiel stared at Dean with a cool look. "Maybe they do. Have you ever spoken to an earthquake?" 

Dean laughed. "Fair point." 

Castiel took Dean to a wing full of residential units. 

"We are a little short on space at the moment," Castiel said quietly. "If you don't mind, we can share my quarters. Until you find a drift partner." 

Dean walked into the small room, it was furnished with warm timber and had a round window that showed the foaming ocean beneath the cliff. It was a standard pilot room with twin beds one on each side. Jaeger pilots, once synced, preferred to room together. The other common sort of room arrangement Dean had seen contained double beds for pilots who had taken their sync to a personal level. It seemed that though Castiel outranked everyone else at the base, he had chosen the most basic accomodation available. 

"At least we don't have to share a bed," Dean muttered. 

Castiel looked at him strangely. "Why would we need to do that?" 

Dean blushed. "Uh, just, sometimes beds break and stuff." 

"I have no intention of breaking my bed," Castiel tilted his head. "Do you?" 

Dean shook his head and looked around. "So, I don't have any of my stuff with me." 

"The admin at the wall will send your personal items along with the next transport run," Castiel went to a locker on his side of the room. "You can use this in the meantime." 

The jaeger suit in his hands was red and blue and white. In even better condition than the one Castiel was wearing under his trenchcoat. Dean's hands trembled slightly when he took it. 

"We're almost the same size. I made it myself, for me, thinking that when my current one is too worn I would replace it with this. So it has my colours, but of course it doesn't signify that we are a synced pair. If you are concerned with appearances I can paint over it for you in the Winchester colours," Castiel offered. 

Dean shook his head hard. "No thanks. To the repainting, I'd like the suit if you don't mind sharing." 

That elicited a smile from Castiel. 

"I can adjust it for you to make it more comfortable. You're a little wider in the shoulders and slimmer in the hips," Castiel's eyes looked at Dean, but when he noticed Dean prining at the attention he looked confused then abruptly look away with colour in his cheeks.

Dean felt his own cheeks grow hot as Castiel scanned his body with those sharp eyes. 

They spent the evening taking turns in the ensuite bathroom. Dean had a blissful shower, the hot water pressure at Central Corps was a lot better than the meagre water rations at the wall. Castiel spent sometime basking in a hip bath, during which time Dean made his bed and called Mary on the comms to make plans for catching up over dinner. Castiel disappeared for an hour or so and returned with new underwear and toiletries for Dean. The rest of the night, after a warm meal with his family, Dean stood in his new jaeger suit and allowed Castiel to sew the suit to fit the curves of his body. Castiel was very good with a needle and Dean fell asleep on his bunk, watching Castiel framed against the darkened window, piecing together a new life for Dean stitch by stitch. 

* * * 

Much to Dean's annoyance, Castiel, Mary and Bobby decided to hold open trials for a new copilot for Dean. Castiel personally took the time to quiz and test each applicant. For days, it seemed, the training room was queued up with hopeful pilots. Dean had been shocked at how many pilots, new and old, wanted to partner with him. He supposed at one point, him and Sam were the most reputable pilots in America and that old fame still held sway in the minds of jaeger pilots. Even Charlie tried to talk her way into the trials, her broken arm not withstanding. 

Dean fought each pilot rigorously, determined to show Castiel that none of them would work well with him. Hannah was a fearsomely strong woman and lethal in her attacks, but Dean could read her intentions in her face and parried and blocked her at each move. She stood down, defeated after thirty minutes of intensive competition. Inias was too gentle and overly focused on defence, Dean had him disarmed in a matter of minutes. Samandriel was a clever fighter with lightning reflexes but he was young and inexperienced and fell for Dean's feint. Anna was the most promising of the candidates, she had Dean pinned beneath her flourishing staff, mimicking the way the angels liked to use their spines to pierce opponents in battle. Dean was nicked on his arm by the edge of her wooden stick but he fought back valiantly, using his upper body strength to fling her across the room. She landed on her feat, her brows furrowed. 

"You would not have such superiority of strength against an actual angel," she warned. "Even in a jaeger they are stronger and you are weaker." 

Dean conceded with a nod of his head. Castiel was watching the display with a faint smile. 

"How about we even the odds a little?" Dean suggested, moving his staff to his left hand. 

Anna fumed but she composed her face and struck an elegant fighting stance. Dean moved fast and lashed out in aggressive movements, goading her on with low blows. She frowned and in one smooth move vaulted over his head and tried to score a hit in the small of his back. 

It was Castiel who moved, despite having sat watching in silence for the last two hours. He slipped between them and caught the staff in his hand but rather than stopping it, he misdirected it like a current. Anna slipped and fell, panting as she looked up at Castiel in shock. 

"Commander," she said. "Did I do something wrong?" 

Castiel frowned, his hands fisting. "No Anna. It was me who made a mistake." 

"Hey," Dean called out as Castiel turned to beat a hasty retreat out of the training room. "Cas, you can't just go. You took her shot, so you've challenged me." 

"I am very busy Dean, I've spent long enough here," Castiel said sternly. 

It had been something of a dick move, but Anna's whole vaulting over Dean's head thing had drawn Castiel's eyes. So Dean got the sudden urge to show Castiel just what he could do. Dean and Sam had trained a lot as jaeger pilots but working the wall came with the sort of long and lean muscles that only hard labour and endless climbing could fashion. Dean took a couple of steps and flipped over Castiel's head, landing with a soft thud and leaning smiling on his staff. 

"Yeah, you wanna go, you get through me first." 

Castiel looked a little awed, but mostly pissed, so Dean poked him with his staff. Charlie threw a training staff to Castiel which he caught one handed. Dean grinned and blew Castiel a kiss then stumbled a little at the impulsive gesture he had made, Castiel took the opportunity to knock his staff into Dean's, hard. Dean retaliated with an overhead blow, Castiel feinted and took a step to the right but their ability to sync with each other worked the other way too. Dean could feel in his bones and on his skin, which direction Castiel was going to move in, could read from his impassive face what his mood was and predict his next move. They fell into a flow that was exactly like the drift except it all happened by the shivering electric feel of flesh and breath. Some of Castiel's movements were nothing like what Dean had seen before. He slithered and writhed and chased the way wild creatures do, without thinking or strategy, determined and lightning fast. 

It was like sinking into Castiel, getting sucked into his movements and Dean felt such obscene pleasure at the immersion that it wasn't until with an spine twisting turn, Castiel had knocked him onto his back that Dean blinked and snapped out of the trance. Castiel had his staff over Dean's neck and his knee in the softness of his crotch and Dean realised he had definitely been enjoying the fight too much and jaeger suits hid nothing. He tried to look down to check Castiel's crotch situation but Castiel pressed the wooden staff a little firmer into his pulse point, blue eyes burning. 

There was deafening clapping and cheering but Dean had ears only for Castiel's hissed reprimand. 

"You made one hundred and twenty two errors, three percent of which could have been fatal," Castiel said with knotted brows. "You will require more training from me before you are approved for active duty with your new partner."

"You over compensate to cover my back, even when we are sparring each other," Dean retorted. "How about you come down here and get more training off of me? Better yet, you could be my drift partner." 

Castiel gritted his teeth. "I told you, I'm not available." 

Dean got back on his feet, racing Castiel out of the gym, still arguing as they walked. 

"I don't care," Dean pushed through the doors with Castiel, mopping the sweat off his head with a t-shirt. 

It smelled of vanilla and moss, Dean had borrowed it from Castiel's locker. They were forever taking things out of each other's lockers already after just a few days of living together. Dean borrowed Castiel's clothes and Castiel used Dean's toiletries and idly leafed through the books Mary had lent him. Mary had given Dean some soaps and shampoos and it was strangely pleasant whiffing the sweet peppermint scent wafting across the room when Castiel came out of the shower. Bobby had sent a tin of brownies and it sat on the kitchenette counter and Dean watched Castiel inhale the scent and gobble up as many slices as Dean did. 

"I don't want to drift with anyone else," Dean told Castiel. "It's not just that you're the best sync for me, it's more than that." 

Castiel stormed into their quarters (and wasn't that a weird thought 'their quarters'), unzipping his jaeger suit down to the navel, his white tank top soaked translucent by perspiration. Dean sniffed the air appreciatively. He hadn't had the foresight to wear a layer of cotton under his jaeger suit, now he was going to have to rinse off the whole thing in the shower. Jaeger suits were made of synthetic material created especially by labs, they breathed like leather but could be washed in water without damage to the skin like fabric. They also repelled acid and were indispensable in combat. 

"I don't want to partner you," Castiel said pulling on his sleeve in frustration, tugging the suit down to his waist. "I don't want to drift with anyone. It is too dangerous." 

"How is any part of getting into a giant robot and fighting monsters not dangerous?" Dean asked righteously. "If it's me you're worried about, I assure you, I can hold my head together. I've cowered long enough at the wall, watching my people endure, letting my own mother risk her neck day after day. I gotta get to the frontline, I get that now, you convinced me I could. The minute you sunk into my head and didn't look at me with pity." 

"Maybe you were too preoccupied with what I would read in your soul than worried about what you saw in mine," Castiel said haltingly. 

Dean looked at Castiel, at his heaving chest and quavering stomach. Some impulse made him place his hands on Castiel's abdomen. 

"You're the one who's scared," Dean soothed the jolt in Castiel's muscles with gentle pressure. "I get it. You've never seen combat and I killed my last partner, so I understand your fears." 

"I've seen far more combat than you have," Castiel said. "I've watched every second of footage from Impala I, even the training logs. I've studied you for years, Dean. You and Sam. I've logged more simulation hours than anyone on this base. I proved myself when we took over Charlie's jaeger. So don't condescend to me." 

"I'm still more experienced with actual fighting experience," Dean scoffed. "So you studied me huh, like what you see? Lose sleep over me?" 

Dean had noticed that Castiel didn't seem to sleep much. He undertook all the evening rituals, cleaning, grooming, borrowed Dean's soft flannels (presumably he slept naked before Dean came to share his room) but whenever Dean tossed and turned or woke from a nightmare, he could see Castiel sitting up in his side of the room, his eyes warm marine as he looked at Dean without judgement. 

"Is this a fight or a flirtation?" Castiel sounded genuinely curious. 

"This is me asking you to be my partner," Dean's hand lingered on Castiel's abdomen. "And maybe we can do some other stuff too, if you wanna."

"Do you want to," Castiel swallowed thickly. "Train in a simulator together?" 

Dean arched his brows. "There's another kind of fighting we can do, Cas." 

Castiel narrowed his eyes. "Are you referring to mating, Dean?" 

Dean let out a soft exhale. "Where the fuck are you from Cas, mating? Did you ever, in your whole life, ever just do things without studying them objectively first?" 

Castiel looked at Dean, tilting his head. "I am confounded by the question." 

"You don't gotta look at how a hundred people kiss, before you kiss someone yourself," Dean explained. "Or watch like thousands of videos of fucking, like I mean, nothing wrong with that if that's what you're into. But sometimes you just gotta do things, without learning first. Like learning as you go. Like drifting, you go with the flow." 

Castiel stared at Dean. "I thought we're in here because we were sweaty and angry with each other."

"Uh-huh," Dean smirked. "We sure are."

"So now it is time for us to fight," Castiel echoed uncertainly. "Verbally? Perhaps with an escalation into physical grappling." 

"I thought I was asking for a kiss," Dean sighed, eyes smiling. 

Castiel looked stunned by the proposition. "You were?" 

Dean nodded. 

"Oh," Castiel shifted uncertainly. "Oh."

Dean laughed, pushing into Castiel's space. "Gotta do everything myself here huh. Gotta convince you to pilot with me. Gotta flirt with you. Gotta kiss you, too." 

Then they were kissing, Castiel really didn't know what to do. His hands batting at the air unsure. His mouth open and unmoving, his lips soft but hesitant. 

"Just go with it Cas, make like we're in a jaeger," Dean murmured, pressing their mouths together again. 

This time Castiel moved with Dean, pushing his tongue in and licking and savouring and Dean liked it alot. Judging by the soft stunned look on Castiel's face as Dean pushed him into the windowsill, curling into Castiel's body, he liked it too. 

"It's alright Cas, I just wanna kiss," Dean said, a little surprised by the sweetness in his own voice. It was the way Castiel looked reverent and shocked at the same time that undid Dean, made his head swarm with warm light feelings. "Just kissing, get you used to it before we do anything else." 

Castiel nodded. "Practice makes perfect Dean." 

Dean grinned as Castiel pulled him back in with his arms. "Over achiever."


	5. Chapter 5

Returning to US Angel Battalion Corps was far more like going home than Dean had expected. All that time he had travelled and mourned the loss of Sam he had thought he was leaving a place of heartache but everything he experienced since his coming to the base had proved him wrong. Perhaps being way from his mother and Bobby and other pilots had made the experience more isolating. There were other people on the base who had lost co-pilots in battle, Charlie for starters and Anna as well. The sparring tournaments seemed to have worked a treat to bring together disparate couples and help them sync. 

About a week after Dean requested Castiel to be his partner, putting in the formal request via Mary, he was officially rejected. Castiel turned up one morning at the gym followed by two young people who no one on the base knew. He introduced them to Dean as Jack and Claire. They were both younger than Sam had been when Dean had started training with him. Jack was browned haired and blue eyed, bearing something of a resemblance to Castiel in physicality and mannerisms. Claire was fairer, with eyes a lighter shade of blue and an attitude that reminded Dean of Castiel in his most fierce moods. Castiel said that Jack and Claire had come from the Red Corps in Russia. That he had selected and trained them himself during his time there. 

"They are the next generation of jaeger pilots," Castiel said. "Come and watch them demonstrate their skills."

They were just as good as Castiel made them out to be. Dean was more than impressed by the speed and power of the duo. They seemed to have learnt off by heart a number of moves favoured by well known pilot couples. Dean looked over at Castiel when Claire swung herself around pivoting on Jacks shoulder and arched back to fly kick into the air. 

"That's something I did, with Sam," Dean remarked. 

"Oh and this is one of my favourites, its coming up," Castiel smiled. 

Jack joined his fists in simulation of a beak hammering down over Claire's head. Claire spun, ballerina like, and swiftly sunk her boot into his bottom. 

"The kickass move," Dean laughed. "I came up with that one." 

Castiel blinked at Dean. "Oh dear, we've been calling it the assbutt move all this time." 

Dean chuckled. "Yeah okay, whatever. She does it better than me, compensates for her lighter weight by jumping up in the air first, in a suit the angel would get their ass handed to them." 

"I think we might stick to calling it the assbutt move," Claire flung her braid over her shoulder when she came over to speak to them. "In honour of the assbutt who invented it." 

Dean poked her tongue out at her, but schooled his face into something more becoming of his age when Castiel rolled his eyes. 

"I think she was referring to the other assbutt," Jack said solemnly, sticking out his hand to shake with Dean. "Though Castiel admires you very much, for Claire and I, you've been more of an icon than a person. We have studied your past battles ..."

"You and Sam discovered Cherubs didn't you?" Claire interjected. "Cut off a piece of Gabriel and he went invisible and you guys came back to base with an angel cat." 

"It wasn't alive," Dean explained. "Kind of just a cat shaped blob of fur. It got feathers and claws later, I was allowed to meet it once." 

"Gabriel was the only angel you and Sam met in battle and didn't kill," Claire pointed out. 

"Well Gabriel could go invisible, he went off the radar soon as he was wounded. He's nicknamed The Trickster for a reason," Dean shrugged. 

"Wasn't Gabriel the earliest angel ever encountered by men?" Jack asked. 

"Well, yeah, my mom and dad were the first jaeger fighters. The first synced couple. This was back when we tried to talk to them, not just fight them," Dean said, frowning. "It didn't go down well. My dad was injured and he did recover but he couldn't sync with mom again. It had an impact on their marriage. So Mary uh got another co-pilot Arthur Ketch. They didn't exactly get along like a house on fire. He died a few years ago, my mom's been cycling through co-pilots ever since." 

"Yeah, and now Castiel wants you to do the same to Jack," Claire said, crossing her arms. 

Dean looked at Castiel who was biting his bottom lip, it was a little distracting. 

"We can talk about this back in our rooms," Castiel said to Dean, standing up to point Claire in the direction of the change room. 

She shook her head slowly at him and gave him a contemptuous look. "You didn't tell him that's why you brought us here? Gah, Jack's right, you're the OG assbutt." 

Jack stood there and looked at Dean askance. "I trust Castiel's judgment, but I'm not sure if Castiel trusts himself," was all he said before he headed for the showers. 

* * * 

It took a couple of minute to walk back to their quarters and Dean thumped Castiel into the back of the door as soon as it was shut. 

"Kissing is not the same as talking," Castiel said. 

"Yeah, but it makes me less angry," Dean replied. "Come on, lets blow off some steam." 

Castiel flipped Dean around and kissed him hard on the mouth. 

"Okay, even angry kissing is good with you, better even," Dean smirked. "Wanna throw me into the bed?" 

Castiel made a sound like he was wounded. "Dean, I am beginning to feel aroused." 

"That's the idea Cas." 

"But we have unresolved issues," Castiel continued reluctantly. 

"Yeah, lets resolve them on the bed," Dean said. "I can go slow if you wanna, rub you slow and good until all your worldly problems go away." 

"Why do you delay penetrative sex with me?" Castiel asked, curious. 

"Cause you're new to this, why else?" Dean huffed, taking Castiel's hand and leading him to one of the bunks. The one Dean liked to make out on was Castiel's, he liked how it smelled. "Don't wanna scare you off, seeing as you were brought up in a cave or something with only videos of jaeger fights to educate you." 

"I have a feelings its more than that," Castiel tightened his hold on Dean's wrist, staring him into his eyes like he could peer right into his soul or something. "Its like you are taking your time to make it ... sweeter almost. When you kiss me, its like you're eating a meal slowly." 

"Yeah Cas, I'll eat you slowly if you like," Dean sighed blissfully, running his fingers through Castiel's hair, cupping his hands around his warm skull. "But I wanna touch you first. Show you what its like to be touched. I wanna do it for hours, find all the best spots to rub on you. Where to grind, where to pull." 

Castiel was silent and breathing hard. Dean smiled and licked his lips, unzipping Castiel's suit down to the crotch in one long pull. His hand found Castiel's erection and encased it, rippling his fingers to test the firmness. 

Castiel tipped his head back, gasping in pleasure. Dean worked him long and hard, licking his palm from time to time, offering his hand for Castiel to moisten with his mouth. Castiel was well endowed, his cock straight and long just how Dean liked it. Dean experimented with his own favourite moves and showed Castiel what sparked pleasure in him. 

"I'm seeing stars," Castiel sighed as Dean worked him to climax. 

"Stars and star spangled stripes?" Dean teased. "Perks of working in the USAB, you get special treatment from me that aren't available in Moscow." 

Castiel shuddered. "Can, can we not talk about work?" 

"If you please commander," Dean studied the puddle in his hand, it had a glossy pearlescent gleam and smelled a little sweet. "Thank you for your discharge." 

Castiel groaned. 

"You got a cool dress uniform for all your fancy titles?" Dean asked, washing his hand at the basin. 

Castiel threw a pillow at Dean's head. "Get back here, I need to bask in your warmth." 

Dean returned to the slim bunk and let Castiel cover him with his body. "Its called a cuddle." 

Castiel muffled Dean's words with a kiss. "I like it. Now let me masturbate you in return." 

"How nice and formal," Dean smiled crookedly. "You do that Cas, and next time, I'll taste." 

They never did finish the argument about who Dean was going to pilot with. 

* * * 

Two months after his arrival, Chuck Shurley invited Dean to visit his laboratory. There had been monthly angel attacks in that time, the last one occurred merely twenty-five days after the preceding. Everyone could see the escalation in frequency and severity plainly. Back in the very early days of angels and jaeger pilots, arrivals were a once a decade event. There was a good twenty years between Gabriel's first encounter with Mary and John and his injury at the hands of Dean and Sam. Though everything about Gabriel as an angel had been exceptional. Dean and Sam used to think of him as different to the others. That he had shown up maybe not so much to create havoc but to warn. The angels who surfaced in the twenty years since the start of the jaeger pilot program had become bigger, meaner and more destructive. They were all more alike to Michael now days, animalistic and enraged, thrilling in their violence. Michael had looked like a dragon and had been the biggest angel on record. He had dwarfed Dean and Sam's jaeger Impala. It had been David and Godzilla. Castiel and Dean discussed the escalation in angel attacked at length. Castiel loved to pour over the data sheets, look at image replays from jaegers that had been sent out to scout for the defend. Dean liked going through the research with Castiel. Enjoyed the look of concentration on his face and Castiel liked bouncing ideas off Dean. They worked well together even in strategising, so he found himself increasingly included in higher level planning. The three commanders, Castiel, Mary and Bobby seemed to work well together. Castiel was all about statistics, strategy, studying the angels. While Mary led the jaeger pilot training and the day to day deployments. Bobby was in charge of all the jaeger suits, from repairs, to designs to construction. Once or twice, Mary talked about retiring and handing over her role to Dean, but Bobby laughed and called Dean an idjit and Dean would pretend to take offence. Despite Dean's refusal to pilot with anyone but Castiel, no one ever mentioned partnering him up with Mary. It would be obscene to put his mother through the grief of living the memory of losing Sam. 

The invitation to visit with Professor Shurley was unexpected. Even Mary was surprised Dean had been given permission to attend there, since Shurley was notoriously private about his work. Dean wondered if Castiel had something to do with the invitation, since Castiel was the only one granted access to the laboratories on the whole base. Though apparently Jack and Claire had been given additional access since their arrival. Maybe Shurley was working with the Russians, thought Dean. 

As much as Dean had been mentally prepared to see gruesome monsters in water tanks (and there were plenty of those), there were cherubs too. A whole warehouse sized area had been converted with a glass ceiling into a green house. The inside was a jungle and instead of cages, Dean could see cherubs in the trees, swimming in the artificial lake, sun baking in the small meadow. It was like the garden of Eden overrun by cute gremlins and right in the midst of that Chuck was hunched over his laptop taking videos of a leopard like cherub that was humming a song. 

"If you were hoping for microscopes and cruel experimentation, you should know I'm a biologist by training and vegan," Chuck said casually, gesturing for Dean and Castiel to sit down in the grass. "So sorry I haven't seen you till now, been a bit busy with work. Castiel has been filling me in on your return to duty." 

"I'm not in active service," Dean stated. 

"Oh, what's taking so long?" Chuck asked, distractedly examining the chrub's paw, he complimented the creature. "Double opposable thumbs, your form is more dextrous than mine." 

There was a low purr like a laugh. 

"Cas won't drift with me," Dean gave Castiel a pointed look. 

"But he is having sex with you," Chuck said without any salaciousness. "He looks like he's in a breeding mood." 

Castiel coughed and Dean choked back his laughter. 

"The interesting thing about angels, well everything about angels is extremely fascinating, but the thing is they can change their forms." Chuck said, whistling low in tune with the leopard shaped cherub. She arched her back and sprung a pair of lavender wings, fine pink webbing running through the pale grey leather. "Anael had a rack of horns last month, but she's decided that flight is more fun and a unicorn horn got in the way of eating. She doesn't need to hunt for food here, so being able to fly became more important than being able to spear things." 

"You're taming them?" Dean asked. 

"More like helping them figure out what they want to do," Chuck smiled goofily. "Last week we got a water snake who wanted to try out stink glands, I had to hand bath all the furred cherubs. 

Dean looked at the purring flying leopard thing and a thought came rushing into his head. 

"Can they turn into humans? Or become human shaped? Like Gabriel was vaguely dude shaped and he could almost speak, hard to understand though." 

"Very few do," Chuck looked at Dean and then at Castiel. 

"The Russian fraternal twins, Jack and Claire," Dean said with exaggeratedly wide eyes. "They gotta be angels, people just can't fight the way they do, like they're playing. They don't get tired." 

Castiel smiled into his own chest. "Why don't you ask them them?" 

Dean nodded. "You wanna get me to pilot with an alien? You're the only space alien for me, Cas." 

Castiel sat still, his face crimson and Chuck cleared his throat. "You wanna show him Castiel?" 

Castiel looked surprised, his eyes wide with fear. Chuck looked up and blinked before saying "The suit?" 

Dean watched as Castiel's face melted into a smile. "Come with me Dean." 

Chuck followed them, stooping down to pet and greet various cherub until they all exited through a glass door into a spacious machinery bay. The equipment here looked different to what Dean had seen in Bobby's well used mechanic warehouse. The technology looked shinier, more colourful, with fluid and futuristic shapes. Dean didn't have much time to look at anything though, his eyes were drawn immediately to the suit standing in the centre of the space, its face at eye level and its body held inside a maintenance pit. He will always know that face. 

"Impala II," Castiel said proudly. "I've been restoring your suit for years Dean. I tried to keep as much of the classic design as I could but it is a hybrid of both jaeger technology and Chuck's research on angel biology." 

Dean was speechless. His mouth gaped unattractively and his fists clenched. 

"I'm sorry if you think I've tempered with the design too much but we needed it to be able to outclass the more aggressive angels." 

Dean spun on his heels and faced Castiel with glaring eyes. "It's a she." 

"I don't see why things have to be so binary..."

"And she's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen," Dean said in awe. "Apart from you, Cas."

Chuck delighted in showing off the spec and capabilities of Impala II. All the facts and figures went right over Dean's head though he asked for a detailed copy of Chuck's notes to study. All Dean could do was admire the sleek design and incredible cohesiveness of the suit. He hadn't even been inside and he was already in love with her. 

"I think Sam would have loved her," was all Dean could say in the end and Castiel beamed because he knew how much of a compliment that statement was for Dean. 

"You guys should get inside, I can't wait to see what your syncing readings look like," Chuck rubbed his hands. 

Castiel shook his head. "I'm not syncing with Dean." 

Chuck looked at Castiel in consternation. "But it's for science." 

"No," Castiel said again. 

"I designed it to accommodate the two of you," Chuck said. "It's a hybrid machine it needs ..." 

"Jack will sync with Dean," Castiel sighed. "He is up to the task. It is his destiny." 

Chuck looked doubtful. "I will not order you, you all have free will, so use it."

Castiel nodded gravely. Dean looked between Castiel and Chuck but made no comment. He stared at the Impala and smiled. 

"All right Cas, I'll take her for spin with Jack, as you wish," Dean grinned.


	6. Chapter 6

It was strange looking across the jaeger and seeing the face of his young copilot. 

The Impala had not so much been restored as evolved. It was clear that Bobby who had known the original jaeger Dean and Sam had commanded had been involved in the rebuild but the sleek lines of the interior had an almost organic feel to it. Dean knew almost by instinct that Castiel had been behind the deft touches and the curved consoles, the interface was state of the art and Dean had no doubt Charlie had allowed her advanced software to be installed. The Impala was both familiar and beautifully alien. It wasn’t even Sam’s face over at on the second harness seat that Dean felt would be right to see. It was Castiel’s. 

What he had to settle for was Castiel’s voice, raspy with unspoken excitement over the comms, running through the check-in protocols with Jack. Jack executed all the commands with technical expertise and gave the cam a confident thumbs-up as the neural lock engaged. 

“Re-con flight only,” Castiel said. “Just stretch the wings a little.”

“Wings?” Dean gasped but Castiel was already gone. The buzz of the neural lock sounded and Dean closed his eyes. 

Jack’s head was peaceful. There was a garden with flowers and puppies, swans on a lake and Jack standing there in his jaeger suit eager and bright eyed. Dean nodded at him and was grateful that for once his own mind held back on his turmoils. There was only the training sessions with Castiel playing in the background on his end of the sync. They were even going through drills as opposed to the more exciting aspects of hand to hand combat that Dean liked to think about doing with Castiel. Jack paid little attention to Dean, when Dean opened his eyes again, they were in sort of loose and cordially polite sync. With a cheerful grin, Jack initiated the sequence for flight and Dean could see on his rear cam the unfolding of razor sharp wings from two ridges that he had previously thought were jaeger spine guards. 

“They’re beautiful,” Dean couldn’t help but remark when the jet black wings expanded, each feather a curved sword. It was functional and aesthetically breathtaking. 

“Thank you, that’s my favourite aspect of the remodel,” Castiel said over the comms. 

Dean felt a flood of something warm and comfortable at the sound of Castiel’s voice. 

“You stay with us,” Dean said to Castiel, requesting an open channel. “I’m not familiar with all the new buttons, gotta help me out.” 

“Jack is more than proficient in the controls ...” Castiel started to say. 

“Stay with me Cas,” Dean repeated. 

Maybe the comm cut out or maybe Castiel’s breath hitched, there was some static then the commander replied. “Yes, Dean.” 

Even Jack felt the rush of pleasure that pulsed through Dean in response. He gave Dean a side glance, blushed and played with the chest canons. 

Dean should have known that when he gets in the Impala again for the first time in years, a simple re-con mission was not gonna be anything simple at all. The clouds on the horizon quickly assumed a purplish cast and by the time the radar were screaming Jack had already spotted the angel hiding in the middle of the storm cell. It was off the charts big, archangel class and Dean was shocked to find Jack pivoting the jaeger’s wings so that they were headed right for it. 

“Hey, we’re just having a look, gotta stay out of its sensors,” Dean said. “Big guy like him would have a lot of range. We can’t fight in this jaeger, we haven’t trained enough in it.” 

“You haven’t,” Jack said. “But my compatibility score with it is 100% and I have been practising on a simulator loaded with this exact interface for the majority of my training. Don’t worry Dean, I’ll take care of you.” 

“How old are you kid?” Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Old enough,” Jack replied. “And young enough to keep up with the jaeger’s demands.” 

“Oh yeah?” Dean closed his eyes and drifted deeper into the sync. 

It seemed at first that Jack was right, they were headed towards the archangel with silent speed, maybe they could dart in and out of its sensory range before they even registered. Jack’s mind garden was basking in moonlight, it a clear summer evening and he seemed to be in full control of his mind and the jaeger. 

That was until the tentacles came out. They were a little recklessly close but still definitely not within reach of the archangel when it happened. The sea boiled and Dean cursed at the sight of the white tendrils, thick as whales, writhing in the water. One of them grabbed hold of the jaeger’s ankle and pulled. The alarms came on and Castiel was issuing rapid fire orders over the comms but Dean was dealing with a bigger problem. Jack’s garden had dissolved into a burning night, the trees caught fire and the animals turned to ash, there were crawling and slithering and flying things in his mind, a ginormous star rose in the sky and it had a face with swollen eyes and a vicious mouth. 

“Jack, come on,” Dean said to his copilot. 

The young man, in Dean’s mind’s eye, turned to him. His face was white and featureless, a glossy skin stretched over the skull with bulging eyes smeared with ink, like an octopus with a mouth that was screaming beak. 

Dean was yelling with the sync cut out. The jaeger was spinning, he could see on the cams that the wings were under Jack’s control and he was dicing away at the tentacle that had them, pulling and pummelling it to paste between the jaeger’s mechanical fists. 

“Quit it,” Dean shouted, but he was locked into his harness and all he could see was Jack’s tormented face, eyes moving rapidly below their sunken lids, panting like a boy trapped in a nightmare. “Cas, damnit Cas!” 

That was when he heard Castiel’s voice. Rapid and firm. 

“He’s trapped in the sync, I pulled you out,” Castiel said. “You need to manually override his neural lock, yank it out. I’ll loosen your harness in three, two, one.” 

Dean slid out of his seat and sprinted to Jack, pulling on the entry point on his spine. The whole suit came to a shuddering stop and sunk towards the ocean floor. The life pod came online but Castiel’s voice cut through the chaos again. 

“Leave his body in the harness and get back to your’s, you don’t need to use the escape pod. I’m running an autopilot routine.” 

Castiel was right, the jaeger gracefully swam towards the base, the wings propelling them through the water with the same efficiency as it had in the sky. When they ran out of ocean depth, the jaeger shot out of the water and Dean saw out the window of the pilot cage the baleful face of the archangel looming in the distant sky. It was the same dead flesh face that he had seen on Jack in the sync. 

Castiel said nothing when the Impala docked. The medics rushed in to take Jack to recovery. Dean sat in the debrief suite, his head in his hands. 

“Lock her up,” was the first thing Dean said when Castiel appeared. “The Impala is too dangerous to use. The interface, its wrong, I figured it out.” 

Castiel looked at Dean blankly. 

“How much angel tech did you put in her? Mixed her in with angel DNA, grew parts of her in Chuck’s lab? Don’t you see she’s malicious? You shoulda seen Jack’s head, it was a mess in there.” 

A look of gloom gathered over Castiel’s face. 

“Do you really believe that Dean, that I would put you or Jack or any pilot into a jaeger that was unsafe?” 

“It’s contaminated, with them,” Dean cursed loudly. “Cute fuzzy baby animals with wings is just the publicity, mixing human tech with angels is, well, it’s Frankenstein’s monster level. What were you and Shurley thinking?” 

“We were thinking we could save the world,” Castiel said coldly. 

He placed the blanket in his hands down on the bench beside Dean and walked out. 

====

The archangel was waiting. It disappeared again overnight, but Dean knew it wasn’t done. If anything it was studying them from afar. It didn’t take long to run the scans through the database and identify it either. It was Lucifer, it had previously been speculated by researchers but never captured on radar. Though it was massive, it wasn’t as large as the Michael had been but it was in many ways more deadly. Every base it had encountered were destroyed. The rumours were that the Lucifer liked to play with its food. 

While the Impala was grounded, Mary had the only operation jaeger with enough firepower to take it out. She flew tree times two recon missions and then she and Bobby designed an attempt at stealth. On the simulator, her jaeger signature disappeared off the radars within thirty seconds of contact with the archangel. So the two of them went back to the drawing board. Each day they waited for a suitable battle strategy to emerge, the archangel made sporadic appearances. Dean hit the training grounds every day, trying to punch and kick his way out of pure frustration. Castiel was polite but cool in his interactions and several times Dean tried to talk to him. 

Over dinner, Dean pulled out his signature apple pie, made with half a year’s ration of eggs. Castiel sniffed it and stiffly sat down to eat the piece Dean had pushed across to him on a plate. 

“I don’t mean to be ungrateful for the Impala,” Dean said. “It’s no excuse for how I spoke to you. I know you thought you would control it, but aliens aren’t like us. They’re like a virus...” 

Castiel swallowed the last bite and silently took the plate to the sink. 

“These angels, they’ll overrun the planet when we are gone. This is us versus them and we gotta win for the humans.” 

The plate went clattering into the sink bowl. 

“I doubt the planet would last much longer had the angels not come,” Castiel said with a slight tremble in his voice. “Chuck had a theory you know, that angels always come when earth needs it. He thinks they are interplanetary beings, clean up crew, they restore the balance in a biosphere.”

“That’s genocide,” Dean said. 

“I don’t think they understand humans are ... well humans,” Castiel said with a shrug. “They just do what they were designed by nature to do.” 

“They are exterminating us,” Dean said. 

“After being awoken by the humans,” Castiel said. “There is evidence, deep sea fossils and samples, that show the angels arrived throughout millennia and lay dormant beneath the earth’s crust.” 

“Waiting to kill us all,” Dean said. 

“Protecting,” Castiel retorted. 

“Well, pie isn’t going to fix this,” Dean said hotly, pulling on Castiel’s arm. “We gotta like fuck it out.” 

Castiel stared at Dean, his brows raised. 

“Not the worse idea I ever had,” Dean tried for a coy smile. 

Castiel sighed. “Dean ... I need to tell you ...” 

The sirens wailed in the base. It was the super loud super bad one that called all pilots to the jaeger pit. 

“Hold that thought,” said Dean and they both sprinted out towards the command centre. 

The carnage was visible on the screen as soon as Dean entered the briefing hall. Mary’s suit was all but destroyed, it would take months to rebuild if it was even salvageable. Her face on the corner of the screen was calm but the comm wasn’t working in her life pod. Dean took one look at his mother and turned around on his heels. 

He found Charlie standing along the wall of the briefing all and when he pulled in her elbow she quickly slipped behind him. They jogged in silence down to the security holding bay.

“Can you get her out?” Dean asked, staring down at the Impala’s huge passive face. 

“Yeah,” Charlie cracked her knuckles. “Thought you’d never ask. So Cas coming along for the ride?” 

“Cas?” Dean asked distractedly. 

“You guys get over yourselves yet?” Charlie asked. “Guy meets alien guy, guy likes alien guys, it’s not hard a plot to follow.” 

Dean glared at her. “What?” 

Charlie’s eyes widened comically, though the situation was not funny at all. She looked down at the keyboard. “Ugh, what? Stop talking, gotta hack here.” 

“Charlie?” Dean called her name. “What do you mean alien. Cas is ...” 

She shook her head. “Can’t talk now, oh hey I’m in.” 

Dean hesitated. 

“You gonna get in the jaeger or not?” 

“Yes,” Dean said. “And you’re coming with me. Not Castiel.” 

“No, no Dean, you can’t be in my head,” Charlie said adamant. “It’s not pretty.” 

“I don’t care, it’s my mom, my family,” Dean said. 

“I can’t, please, I don’t want to ...” Charlie muttered, her eyes filling with tears, Dean had never seen her even crack a sad face before. “I don’t want to see her face. I miss her too much.” 

Dean nodded, softening instantly. “All right. Just load up the auto-co-pilot software. I’ll manage.” 

“Dean.” 

“Please.” 

Charlie nodded and within moments Dean was alone inside the jaeger, the sync nodule lodged into his spine. It was okay at first. The auto-co-pilot was clunky but serviceable and Dean even managed to fly the jaeger on first try. It was strange how intuitive the piloting was, though he knew full well it was stuffed to the gills with alien tech. The controls, the machinery, the walls themselves pulsed in sympathy with Dean’s every command. The pilot harness wrapped tight around Dean almost like Castiel’s arms. 

Dean liked it best when he fell asleep after making love to Cas, the way Castiel wrapped himself around Dean’s spine, threading his arms through Dean’s and tucking his hands inside Dean’s palms. Like was trying to get under Dean’s skin. It wasn’t creepy, it was intimate and warm, like a sync between their bodies. Like drifting together in love. 

The Impala obeyed Dean and piloted like a dream, though he was on his own and the neural indicator was well in the red and heading towards violet. When he faced the archangel, the Impala was in full flight, wings outstretched and sword in hand, Dean focused on the strike but the blow never landed. The tentacles reached out from the ocean and trying to navigate around them was mentally exhausting. Though the jaeger handled even better than the original model, Dean faltered when the archangel’s trunk surfaced. The head was gruesome and exactly like the one he saw in Jack’s mind. It occurred to Dean then that he was alone out here with the archangel, grinning its beak like death, and he was probably going to die. 

When he switched the comm back on, a flood of curses, more inventive and florid than Dean was used to from Castiel even in the bedroom came pouring out at Dean. When Castiel was done swearing he slipped into commander mode and started asking for status reports and issuing orders. Dean had never felt so glad to hear Castiel’s voice. 

“Target the eyes,” Castiel said. “You get one shot.” 

Dean spun the jaeger around and aimed the sword for the left eye, there was boost from the wings and he got the hit. The archangel screamed, tides rolling out of its mouth, the tentacles all focused on the jaeger and he was midair and trapped like a bee in a spider web, the sword oozing in the wound of the archangel’s skull and lost. 

“Use the wings,” Castiel said. “Shred the tentacles.” 

Dean closed his eyes and nodded but nothing happened. He tried again. The alarms went off, Dean looked down and saw his neural indicator was in the black. 

“Not good news is it?” Dean asked Castiel over the comm. 

It was Bobby who answered. “Idjit, double idjits.” 

“Where’s Cas?” Dean asked. 

“You’re in neural overload, try to think about something distracting before you lose your mind,” Bobby said. “Castiel is on his way.” 

Dean was midway through an awesome memory of him and Castiel in the training room showers after hours when he was out of the sync again. His sensors had shutdown and the life support was barely still on but he could see through the window of the pilot cage two specs in this distance. The two jaeger suits were identical and they were different to the other suits back at base. They were each bigger than the Impala, but something about the way they flew told Dean right away that they were single pilot vehicles. Sure enough on his comm screen Jack and Claire popped up. 

“Got a delivery for ya,” Claire said and Dean could see that between the two jaeger’s was a much smaller figure in a streamlined shaped object. 

“The blade’s loaded,” Jack said. “Stick it in your back pocket before you use it.”

“He means your rear dock, but Jack’s feeling weird about saying that,” Claire said. 

“Uh, so you guys are, um,” Dean squirmed in his seat. 

“Look I’m sorry about the sync before,” Jack said. “I didn’t know it was going to happen, none of the simulations we ran told us it would, but you seem more perceptive to my kind than expected though I suppose it is no surprise since you’ve spent a lot of time with people like us.”

“People like...” Dean stuttered. 

“People like people, me and Jack, we’re people,” Claire said loud and clear. “Fight now, talk later. Sorry about Jack’s daddy issues.” 

The shock of Claire actually saying sorry about anything was overridden by the sequence being entered in the rear entrance of the jaeger. Dean was speechless when Castiel dropped into the pilot cage, his riding suit on, his blue eyes bright and determined as he sat back into co-pilot seat. 

They synced immediately. Dean found himself, themselves, standing together under a starry sky. Castiel was right there in front of him, a colossus of eyes and feathers and talons and wings. The seraphim stared down at Dean with gemstone eyes and leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. 

There were tentacles wrapped around him, there were tentacles pulling on the Impala. There were arms, caressing his. Hands warm with delicate fingers and strong sinews. Heat and strength and truth infusing his bones and limbs and Dean tugged and the jaeger came free. 

When he opened his eyes again, he saw the same sapphire blue peering back at him, Castiel turned towards him his mouth soft with a smile. 

“That’s you Cas,” Dean said with awe. 

“What I was,” Castiel said. “What I still am, out there.” 

“An angel in love with humanity,” Dean said quietly. The jaeger was doing things as they were talking. It was pulling free of the archangel’s grasp, it was slashing and fighting with the blade that Claire and Jack had delivered. The vessel that Castiel had arrived in. The jaeger moved about like it had a mind of its own, like the Impala was alive. 

“It is alive,” Castiel said, his lips didn’t move. 

“Are you doing it?” Dean asked. “And how come we’re not talking with our mouths?” 

“We are communicating via the neural bond,” Castiel responded, his eyes warm. “I never thought it possible with someone entirely human but our bond is profound beyond understanding.” 

Dean smiled. “That sounds nice. I like it. So you’re driving?” 

“We’re driving and the archangel is starting to wane.”

“This is us then,” Dean thought with wonder. 

“Yes, Dean.” 

====

It wasn’t like operating machinery. It wasn’t even like driving a classic car or riding a motorbike. It was flying. Soaring with wings on your back, breathing under water, kissing the one you love. It was natural and instinctive and thrillingly new. 

“Dean, time’s up,” Castiel said. “Recon over.” 

Dean tapped out of the sync with a sigh.

“I wanna do it again,” he whined. 

“Our operation is done,” Castiel reminded him. “Claire has come to relieve us. She always looks so unimpressed when we linger in the sync.” 

“Claire has serious attitude problems, probably gets it from your gene pool,” Dean said, bumping his shoulder into Castiel as they exited the pilot cage. “Should get Shurley to look into that.” 

“We’re from different angel cast off tissue,” Castiel said. 

“Nurture over nature,” Dean smirked. “You know Claire gets her pissiness from you and Jack got your dorkiness.” 

Castiel growled and Dean suddenly stopped thinking about the sync. 

“Hey you know what’s cool about not syncing in our heads?” Dean grinned hopefully. “The only good thing about having two bodies, one soul.” 

“Souls are very metaphysical philosophical ideals,” Castiel started to say. 

“Showers, after hours, now,” Dean reminded him. 

That shut the angel up and they raced each other through the jaeger pit.


End file.
